And the World Spins On
by Ashe Dupre
Summary: A look into five lives, and a dream that brings them all to ruin. Based off of the Vocaloid song Alice of Human Sacrifice. TW; Character death.
1. Prologue

There was once a little dream. It wandered around, hoping someone would dream it. What? Well, what did you think happen to dreams when they aren't being dreamed? Well this dream was such a very small dream, and it worried that people would stop dreaming it. When this happens the dream's world is destroyed, and so is the dream.

It thought to itself, "I don't want to go away. How can I make sure that people dream me?"

The dream thought and thought. It thought long and hard. Then, it had an answer.

"I'll find people, and they will create my world, and keep it running. They'll create it how they want. They'll stay with me, and keep me alive..."

The dream then sent out a message, to the first one chosen; a message so soft that it went almost completely unnoticed in the mind of the recipient.

Almost.

_You are the first Alice._

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><p><strong><span>AN: Well, who needs to stop doing other stories when there are incomplete ones still there? The answer is me. I am sorry to anyone who expects fast updates, especially on Not A Perfect World, but ugh, school. I don't own Hetalia, Himaruya does. And I don't own the Vocaloid song that this is based off of either. All rights for that go to whomever owns the rights to Alice of Human Sacrifice. Got a question? Feel free to PM me. No account? Either leave a review and mark it question, or pop over to my tumblr at karkittyisnotamused DOT tumblr DOT com. Take out the dots, replace them with periods. Well, that's it, I'm out.<br>**

**~Ashe**


	2. Red

_Red._

That's all he'd ever heard. It was the first thing anybody noticed. Not his smile, his humor, him. No. It was the red.

His eyes had been red since he was born. He had caused quite a shock; white hair and red eyes were not what Frederick and Monika Beilschmidt had been expecting. They had adapted quickly though. He was named Gilbert, and brought up loved.

But he could still see them. The uneasy glances his mother gave him when she thought he wasn't looking. He could still hear the hushed conversations, late at night, wondering what to do with him, what was _wrong_ with him.

The town was worse. The other children laughed at him, jeered at him, some even threw rocks. At least, until their parents pulled them inside. Told them to stay away. To stay away from the demon. The devil-touched child.

They moved away after that. But the hateful words and glaring looks followed. Everywhere they went. It even affected his little brother Ludwig, born six years after him. He looked just like their mother, blond hair and blue eyes. And yet he was still looked down on, and ostracized, simply because he had a "devil" for a brother.

And it made him angry. So very angry.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was born different. It wasn't fair that his parents had to worry so much. It wasn't fair that they kept getting driven out of town. It wasn't fair that. Ludwig couldn't keep any friends for long. It wasn't fair!

And so he made a decision. One night, nearing his sixteenth birthday, he packed his bags. He stole away that night, leaving a kiss on the forehead to his little brother, and a note for his parents.

_Mutti und Vatti,_

_Thank you for taking care of me, and I'm sorry for leaving, but it's for the best. Please don't try to find me. Tell Lutz I love him. _

_Love,_

_Gil_

And he left, with just his clothes, a pack with food, and his sword, given to him on his fifteenth birthday.

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><p>He wandered for several years, hiding from the prying eyes of others, going into towns only when necessary. But still, he was called witch, and demon. So he kept running. And then he started fighting. He was tired. And angry. And so he fought.<p>

He fought, and fought, and he left a trail of red, his sword and cloak stained.

All of it.

_Red_

He kept wandering, into darker, and more mysterious places. Until one day, the man who had became feared, known only as the Red Swordsman, vanished. He traveled into a mysterious wood, and never returned. Some say that he found the solitude more to his taste; others say he ran afoul of the fey; and still others say that he was imprisoned by the heavens for his crimes.

Still, eventually, if not for the grieving families left in the wake of the bloody trail he had made, no one would have thought he was ever more than a story.

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><p><em>So much for the first Alice.<em>


	3. Blue

**A/N: So, I forgot to mention this, this story is kind of my dip into different points of view. So, yeah. Enjoy. Also, I love reviews. Even just a random "cool story". This chapter is also dated with style.**

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><p><em>Blue.<em>

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><p>Journal of Roderich Edelstein, Composer<p>

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><p>13.12<p>

Today was dull, as always. Not much passed. Elizaveta cleaned, singing all day. I wrote my music. I'm worried- I seem to have hit a block. I am in need of inspiration. And a Yuletide gift.

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><p>27.12<p>

Yuletide passed. I gave Elizaveta a new dress. She seemed delighted. I still can't write.

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><p>8.1<p>

Another year gone. I have started to get headaches. Will ask Elizaveta if she knows any reliefs.

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><p>10.2<p>

Headaches persist. Still at a block.

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><p>20.3<p>

I believe I have found my inspiration. Blue. I don't know why it came to mind. But blue is fitting. It is my families primary color. I am a "blue-blood". This will be my next masterpiece. I can feel it.

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><p>17.4<p>

This will be my crowning glory. I can tell. My name will be remembered throughout the ages. Blue...it is such a calming color. I was born blue, early and ill. Blue is mine.

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><p>22.5<p>

Headaches have not gone away. Make it difficult to concentrate. Elizaveta complains that I have grown distant. She can't see how important this is. It is my dream.

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><p>9.6<p>

Elizaveta is angry. I was composing all through yesterday, her birthday. She doesn't understand. This is so important. She doesn't understand. I need to finish this.

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><p>18.7<p>

Have been spending more time in my music room. I need to finish the song. It flows through me. Blue. It is such a beautiful color.

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><p>29.8<p>

Elizaveta says she is worried. She doesn't understand. She can't understand. I see it now, she simply can't understand the masterpiece I am creating. My head has been hurting still, throbbing painfully.

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><p>16.9<p>

Blue. Blue is a good color. The sky. The sea. I am surrounded by blue. My house is blue. Ha. Even the atmosphere is blue as of late. Elizaveta says she worries. It grows tiresome. I am fine. Everything will be fine. Once I finish my masterpiece.

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><p>26.10<p>

Elizaveta has left. Happy Birthday to me. It doesn't matter. I am close, I can feel it. If my head would stop I could concentrate. Stop throbbing. Throbbing like blood. blue blood.

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><p>13.11<p>

i can't- it hurts. but I am so close. blue is everywhere, pulsing, i can do it. i must finish my song. have i heard that part before. it doesnt matter. it will not be remembered. i will.

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><p>5.12<p>

blue. everywhere blue.

my walls are blue. my coat is blue. my veins are blue. blue.

my blood is blue

is it

they always said so

i cant

it hurts

my head

make it stop

what will make it stop

blue

blue will make it stop

what is blue

sky, coat, walls, veins, blood

my blood is blue

the pistol

my blood

it will help

make it stop

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><p><em>Notes were recovered from the journal of the deceased composer Roderich Edelstein, found dead in his home, killed by a pistol wound, lying near his piano, journal, and multiple sheets of blank sheet music. This note was also found, written in some sort of red-brown liquid on a sheet of music paper nearby.<em>

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><p>my blood is red<p>

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><p><em>So much for the second Alice.<em>


	4. Green

**3.**

_Green._

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you are not insane.<p>

You also know what the people say. Contrary to what they seem to believe, you can hear them.

That was the problem, wasn't it though? You heard _too much-_

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you are sixteen years old.<p>

You think.

It's easy to lose track of time, too easy.

Day, Night, Winter, Summer, it all blurs together, confusing.

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you don't remember how long you've been here.<p>

Your parents brought you here.

"For your safety"

Liars.

All of them _liars-_

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you used to be loved.<p>

You did remember your childhood.

A wealthy family, a large house, plenty of free time, alone time, to play.

Maybe being here was fate making things fair.

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you have blonde hair.<p>

Your mother always liked it when it was up in ponytails.

Everyone compared you to a doll.

A small, porcelain doll.

You didn't like it.

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><p>Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you have green eyes.<p>

You wish you didn't.

They made you different.

Not soft, and pretty, like blue eyes.

They were a hard, cold green.

You didn't like them before, and you don't like them now.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you are not insane.<p>

You just have friends.

That no one else saw.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you had parents who worried.<p>

They worried about sickness, they worried about theft, they worried about everything.

But they especially worried about their daughter.

They worried about everything.

But they worried the most when their daughter's imaginary friends didn't go away.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you don't know why your friends are so bad.<p>

They're nice.

They played with you when no one else would.

When you were all alone in the great big house, excepting the servants, who didn't talk to you.

But they're bad.

Everyone says they're bad.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you are lonely.<p>

You wish you could go home.

You wish your friends would show up.

You wish there was someone there.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you are dangerous.<p>

That's what they said.

You were dangerous, because you saw your friends and they didn't.

You heard your friends and they didn't.

So you're dangerous.

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><p>Your name is Alice, and you're scared.<p>

It's not new.

There are monsters out there in the world.

Your friends used to protect you, point out the monsters.

But people like your parents, and the doctors, they got mad when you told them about the monsters.

Your friends don't show up anymore.

But you still hear the monsters.

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><p>Your name is...Alice.<p>

And you are angry.

Because no one comes to see you anymore.

No one cares.

You are all alone.

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><p>Your name is...Alice, and you are confused.<p>

No one comes by.

People used to visit.

You can't remember where or when you are.

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><p>Your name is ... Alice, and you are scared.<p>

Because you can't remember.

You should be able to remember.

Why can't you _remember-_

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><p>Your name is...<p>

Your name is...

_Your name is..._

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><p>Oh.<p>

Ah.

You remember now.

Your name is Alice Kirkland, and you are dead.

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><p><em>So much for the third Alice.<em>

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><p><strong><span>AN: Hey! So, yes, I am in fact alive. You can take a look at my profile to see what's up with my updating. Yeah, it's all there. Also, do you guys like this? There are no reviews... :0(**

**~ Ashe**


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